Eternal Mistakes On The Spotless Soul

A/N: I am moved to tears, and in some cases hysterical laughter, by all of your well thought, well drawn out comments. It’s very refreshing to come home from a long, tiring day and see that my story has raised exponentially in hits and has at least 10 new reviews! Same thing after a fitful night of restless sleep. I appreciate you all. I know I’m supposed to be doing assignments and things but as my acting coaches and writing professors say (god if only I could turn this stuff in to my creative writing class) passion is important, and I’ve a passion for this story at the moment, especially because it seems to make you all so excited! Yay! So many theories and thoughts! How do I continue on without one of you thinking you’re right? ;-) And for those of you worried about explosions, I’m sure there’s bound to be one sometime, so go dig a foxhole or something cute to hide in. Hope this next chapter doesn’t disappoint.



Meankitty69— *fills soup ladle with next chapter* There you go.



Citten— you’ll get your answers, eventually. I can’t begin to imagine about all those ideas rustling around in your head.



Sljh— do you not have a life? Can I do whatever it is that you do to pay the bills? (you seem to have time to do nothing but write novella’s worth of comments on this, for which I am most grateful, but where my good reader, do you find the time??) *pops head out of the Malfoy closet, holding a skull* To sin? Or not to sin. That is the question. With Malfoy I think it’s always to sin. ;-) Um, skipping over your question, and oh— *gets into virtual poking stick resistant armor* There is no sleep. *narrows eyes at* Stay out of my desk!! *points accusatory finger at* If there was a desk, rather than just a plank of wood that drifted up on the beach that I then mounted to the remains of a tree stump. (bare bones living out here in Australia, back to nature, though it’s sort of nice) I suspect you would go snooping through it to check the outline of the plot. Not a squee-er, huh? Too bad, so sad. Not even going to comment on poor crippled Ron, who already has twin daughters, and shame on you for trying to make every Weasley out to be a terrible as Ginny. Pretty, little, dead Nalina, you’re terrible. ;-) Seriously? Five reviews? I humbly bow to you. But my dear lord, how do you have the time????



Utopia— *gets you several bars of chocolate* You get those for calling me Duckie. I love that nickname. Thank you, dear.



NarcissasSister— Thank you, I took four years at plot building school to get those fine tools of the craft working the way they do. ;-) Perhaps you should sit down, at least until your head stops spinning, and get your kitty some throat spray, or a lozenge or something.



ElectricalStorm— Blackmail and intrigue indeed! *takes the popcorn and the chocolate* Mmm. Movie food. *runs away*



ArabellaSnape— You realize my soul purpose is to torture you with cliff hangers, right? And don’t be daft, woman, I would never dangle a carrot in front of you. It would at least be a fancy chocolate bar. Or a pint of that smooth fanchy schmanchy ice cream of yours. And my dear, I did try to warn you that I was mad. :-p Wicked woman, am I? *laughs maniacally and takes a bow* Then I’ve done my job!



SnapesPet30— I’m looking forward to more of your reviews. :-)



LyraAphroditeMoon— Is it wrong that you hate pretty little dead Nalina? That’s between you and Nalina, and possibly Severus if he ever finds out. Glad to see you’re still reading and reviewing. I’m glad your wacky theories make you happy, but like everyone else, I’m not giving any sort of response to them. And no need to explain, to each their own when things get too close to home, I get that. All questions will be answered in due time, my dear.



ApollinaV— *snatches your lil Nancy Drew kit* No cheating! And by all means, write a page, it keeps me amused, and I do so love reading over your detective work, it’s keeping me laughing. Just don’t be sad if I can’t find the energy to respond with a full page comment. (If I responded to match length to everyone’s comments, we’d never get the story done, now would we?) But I appreciate the reviews after each chapter. I thank you.



winters— *gives you a bullet-proof shield* Hope that helps. Thanks for the review! And wouldn’t we all like to comfort Severus, in one way or another.



desirae— Yes, you do have a dirty mind, and thank you for contributing it to the review page.




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The tiny cabin was hardly warm despite her many attempts at heating charms. Hermione was normally quite proficient in simple spells, especially ones regarding temperature regulation, however the frigid winds of North Eastern Russia were much colder than what she was used to, and strong enough to blow straight through some of her flimsier spells. She sat alone at the wooden table, watching the wrought iron pot that hung over the low flames in the fire.



On her way up the mountains there had been a small shack selling provisions and things of the like, and she had stopped in buying food and a few other supplies, wishing now that she had bought a thermal blanket like the man at the cash register had suggested. Thick brown cheese mixed with goat’s milk and a few dried vegetables bubbled slowly in the pot. It was not in the least bit appealing to Hermione, nor did it smell appetizing, but food was food, and she did not think she had the stomach to tackle the salted lamb shank that had come in the rations kit she had purchased.



Her first day spent in woods trying to locate the grove where the Pulmarian Root grew had been unsuccessful, but she attributed that to the sudden snow storm that had blanketed the forest in nearly six inches of snow. But it was nearly day four and she had still had no luck. Of course, doing the track work from memory was most likely half of her problem, but her diary had been misplaced. It wasn’t so much misplaced as left behind, but when she had snuck into Ginny’s house after visiting Severus that day in the garden, she had been unable to locate her purse. Leaving on her current expedition without it was proving to be most difficult.



The wind was howling fiercely and Hermione almost didn’t hear the soft tapping at the door. She drew her wand; no one knew that she had come here. Snow blistered around the windows being swept up in the wind, knocking icicles askew from the overhang of the roof, and darkness had befallen the sky. With her wand pointed firmly ahead she pulled the door back. Hermione’s face drained of all color. “You.” She said, and nearly fainted.



~*~



Frizzy curls fell into Pomona’s eyes as she dug in the dirt of greenhouse number four. She was attempting to replant a crop of Gargoyle Mushrooms, her thoughts deeply wrapped around the temptation of popping one and floating away on a very relaxing trip, when the large glass door slid open.



Severus Snape strode into the greenhouse, the warmth feeling almost cool in comparison to the temperature outside. He scanned his surroundings and took only a moment to find the dumpy little woman he was looking for. “Pomona,” he said, approaching her. “I need a word.”



“Severus!” she seemed quite surprised to see the man. He had not taken residence at the Hogwarts castle during the summer holidays in nearly four years, and it was not close enough to the start of term for his return. And with everything that she had read about the man in The Daily Prophet, her greenhouse was the last place she expected him to turn up on a hot summer’s day. “What can I do you for?” she asked.



He nodded and waited for the witch to pull herself up from the dirt. Although he’d never made particularly close friends with the witch, being colleagues always having sufficed in the past, he was grateful that she was not the prying type. “Has Miss Granger sought you out?”



It was a simple enough questions, though it triggered a world of others in her mind. Pomona shook her head. “No, she has not.” She said. The witch had learned the hard way, many years ago, answer only what you’re asked and don’t volunteer information, no matter who’s asking.



“She has not.” He echoed her answer to confirm that he had heard the woman correctly. “But she intends to?”



“Yes.”



“When?”



“Now that I’m not certain, Severus.” She said. Pomona pursed her lips as if to ask a question, but before she could do so, Severus had turned and headed toward the door of the greenhouse. “Is there something I can help you with?”



“No thank you, Madam.” He called from the door and left the greenhouse. If she had not yet met with the Herbology professor then she had not yet gathered the Pulmarian Root, as he had expected. A trip to North Eastern Russia was not the idea way to be spending his afternoon, but the sooner the girl was recovered, the sooner her could return home to his big, empty house and continue to grieve properly.



The snow had been thicker than he’d anticipated, but this only deterred him slightly as he made his way up the mountainside. There was a small shack just a few feet back, selling supplies and things of the like, and the shop owner had stated that a woman nearly a week ago had passed through on her way to the top. Severus hoped that the only woman daft enough to outfit an expedition up the mountain only would be Hermione Granger as he had no time for false leads.



It took him nearly three hours to reach a point where the mountain leveled off and a dense forest began to grow. It was dark, but the snow seemed to act as a natural light. Just off in the distance he could see a tiny cabin, gray smoke curling out the chimney and into the violet night sky.



When he reached the cabin he took a moment to draw in his breath, shaking the still falling snow from his hair, before he beat on the door. Severus could hear rustling inside, a chair scraping across wooden floorboards. The hinge creaked and the door was pulled open. At once he stepped inside, the warmth from the cabin defrosting his skin, but it only took a moment for his wand to clatter to the floor, his jaw to drop. The bushy haired know-it-all had quickly returned to her place at the table, opposite the doe-eyed, silver haired girl. Both witches had their eyes on him. “Severus,” the silver haired girl nodded.